Rush To Your Head
by Sickai
Summary: [Soriku] Riku’s a murderer who kills for the fun of it. But what will happen if he’s on the run… and just so happens to be saved by a young runaway brunette?


Hey people of FFnet! I usually write Sorato (Sora/Yamato – Digimon) and Taito (Taichi/Yamato – Digimon) but I suddenly now have changed and devoted a good percentage of my stories to Soriku! LOL… so, as I think you have figured out by now. This is my first Soriku fic. Though I have been going about and reading them for a while. Ok! Lets get it started!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters distributed by SquareSoft. All credit goes to them.

Alright… enjoy!

-Rush To Your Head-

Epilogue

Not a single flaw in his plan. He had been in situations like this every night for his well-known kills. To him it was only a simple game, and easily he could predict how he would win. His clothing was light, and just for the occasion he was wearing the typical tight black leather outfit covering all his body and ending around his jaw line.  
He skidded suddenly on the moist concrete, grinning menacingly as the gap closed between him and his four fresh victims.  
Guns of various types were all aimed at the youth, and rain drizzled down heavier across the building top. They encircled him, assuring there was nowhere left for him to run. He of course knew otherwise, his predictions were always correct. He allowed them to conjure enough courage to press down on the trigger to the point it would fire.  
He licked his lips at the quivering man in front of him and whispered, "Are you sure you want to do that?"  
He preferred to drag it out. Make them suffer for a short while before they would have to taste their own blood in the back of their throat. Not a single one of his opponents were a thrill, and that's what glorified him most of all. He preferred it if his boss would let him tear them to pieces, and chew on their skin as a savoury.  
The guards of course knew what he was capable of, after the numerous reports of their men being sickly torn to bloody fragments. He had stood patiently long enough, and it was just about time to give the guards _exactly _what they had come for.  
"Let's make this quick!"  
There was no time for even one of the four guards to let his words sink in. With inhumane strength his fist burst through the centre of ones stomach, broke the spine in two and out the other end. He quickly pulled it back out with a small intestine in hand. He carelessly threw it aside and snickered. All had happened before the man noticed he had even been struck. The next that approached him from behind was grabbed by the scruff of his hair, and slammed face first into the concrete. To be nice about it, his head burst open like a soft melon being smashed with a mallet.  
His head snapped to the right, with the same killer grin worn on his face. He dropped to one knee and panted heavily retracting his tongue as he inhaled. His clothes shredded into a few pieces as he took the form of a silver coated dog. Both guards stared, they couldn't breathe, they couldn't blink, they couldn't move, only stare as they each took their last drawn breath.  
Blood mingled with the sky water and ran over the side of the building. His body morphed back into its human state. He was cold, and naked, gathering his shredded clothing in his hands.  
Several gaping holes covered one of the victims face. His eyes were wide open and frozen, and his tongue hung out of his wide-open mouth. Crimson streams of blood trickled down his face and into his mouth, though the naked man only wished he were still alive to taste it.  
The other guard had been no better off. One arm had been ripped out of its socket and masticated. His throat was opened slightly, and several veins, blue and red, jutted out.  
Gazing down at them he realized how complete for that moment he felt. Everything was right, and nothing or no one was there to tell him otherwise.  
It was an accomplishment. A quick moment later his tongue flicked out and cleaned away any traces of the sweet blood that covered the palm of his hand. He tried to cover up as he strode away. Though really it wouldn't have been a problem, he was never embarrassed. If that were the case, he would have easily slit the jokers throat before he could laugh.  
Thoughts plotted in his mind, one after another making him tense his strong body and smile. Killing was the best thing he ever felt. He always knew he could make his victims suffer either by sheer strength, or his cruel ways as a wolf.  
He left them there. All four of them, to let their clothes absorb the fresh blood. The stench blended with the water, it was only faint after that, and not even _he _could smell it. He carelessly walked away and stretched his neck.

* * *

That was just the epilogue so chapter one will defiantly be much longer! Thanks for reading! Pweasee review n tell me what you think! 

Regards, Sickai


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